The Manual for Finding a Lost Identity
by 3l3ph4nt
Summary: Edward, a small-time journalist for a small-time paper in New York City, finds a lonely messenger bag one day on the subway. Intrigued, he brings it home instead of dropping it at the Lost and Found office. His goal: Find the rightful owner himself.
1. Chapter 1

_hi. this fanfic should be pretty good because i have experience with several other stories. all the characters are human. and all the couples are classic, as they should be._

_Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, NOT ME!!_

_enjoy_

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Chapter 1

New York City. Infamous for its crowded streets, The Statue of Liberty, hot dogs, and pit-pocketers. Home of the Empire State Building. The Big Apple. How easy it was to let your identity, your personality, and your essential make-up that made you unique drain away into one of the thousands of sewer holes that dotted the many bustling streets. Both metaphorically and literally. It was something that you would never want to happen.

Strangely enough, though, I found myself wishing that that exact thing would happen to me right now. _THUD, THUD, THUD_. That a hole would open up in the subway floor and suck me in. _THUD, THUD, THUD_. The soles of my feet were vibrating in time with the rhythmic pounding. _THUD, THUD, THUD_. Despite the fact that my brother, Emmett, was older than me, he often acted as though he were much younger; like it was a toddler inside the burly, very much developed, body, and not a twenty-six year old man. _THUD, THUD, THUD._ More than once, his immature antics had drawn and received unwanted attention. Like now, for instance. _THUD, THUD, THUD._ He was doing his signature 'potty dance' in the middle of a crowded subway car.

And I was not more than three feet away from him.

"Emmett," I hissed, glancing around at the appalled faces, "Emmett, cut it out. Act your age." He groaned theatrically.

"But, Edward," he whined, not making any attempt at lowering his voice, "I _really_ need to go pee." I smacked my forehead at his forwardness. His voice was several octaves higher than usual – so much so, that it sounded like he had had a mouthful of helium. And it would've been comical.

Had we not been in public.

I suppressed a sigh, and glanced around us, once more. The people around the cramped space were staring at Emmett as though he were one of those new reality television shows: embarrassing to watch, but too enthralling to look away from at the same time.

"Could you at least sit down?" I whispered through gritted teeth, practically begging him.

"Fine," he muttered. He stopped bouncing up and down on the spot and holding his crotch, and joined me on the seat.

I turned my attention back the glowing laptop screen, and tried to get some more work done. But Emmett was distracting me again. _Cross, uncross, re-cross, uncross, cross, uncross, re-cross, uncross._ It was impossible to ignore, because he took up so much room in the confined space, and each time he moved, he would bump my legs with his own crossing, uncrossing ones. I bit back my groan of annoyance.

"Stop. Fidgeting." I growled commandingly, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm sorry," he moaned, "but that kid with the juice box over there is _taunting_ me!" I glanced at the small red-head child, who was slurping away noisily on the fruit drink, eyes trained on Emmett. Just like everyone else's.

I repressed the urge to smack the back of Emmett's head (it would kill more brain cells, and that would _not_ be good for his _already_ low IQ), and slid away from him in what I hoped to be a discreet manner. I checked my watch.

_3:42_. Crap.

I had to finish my piece and send it in before four. My fingers shot frantically towards the keyboard and resumed the frenzied typing motion they had been in before Emmett had started acting like an idiot:

_And so, in conclusion, it is better to place paper-whites in the sun, so that they don't start growing towards a window, knock over your boyfriend's coffee cup, spill it all over his two-hundred dollar shirt, ruin your date, and, inevitably, your relationship._

Yes, I was writing an article about flowers ruining a girl's date, but it wasn't my fault. Because said girl was my insane boss, who wanted me to write excruciatingly specific advice columns about her miserable, wretched life.

A year ago, I had been looking for a job in the journalism field, as that had been my major in college. . It was extremely difficult to find one though, as this was New York, and all the well-paying jobs were with the _New York Times _and other noted papers – which meant that they were already taken. I had thought that I had gotten lucky when I had found my job. That I had struck gold.

Oh, how wrong I had been.

It seemed good enough, at first. I could pay the bills. I didn't have to work too hard. I just had to write some simple _How To _articles, and read letters asking for advice. But I soon realized what a joke my occupation was. Mostly because my boss was an air-headed bimbo. She kept giving me ridiculous assignments, like the series I was currently finishing: _The Manual for NOT Ruining a Date._ She had based it off of her own awful experiences – to the point where I was just writing a psychopathic rant from her point of view.

I shook my head, as I attached the document to an email. _Another waste I time_, I thought, as I clicked send and transferred it to my editor, Jasper, who shared my less than decent opinions of our boss.

"Let's go!" Emmett squealed in relief as the doors slid open. I stood and tucked my computer in my bag.

As soon as we exited, my brother shot off at top speed in the direction of the unsanitary public restrooms.

"Hurry up!" I called after him, "we can't miss our next train!" But I don't think he heard me over the roar of the babbling crowd that shoved at me from all sides. Not that it mattered. He would hurry no matter what I had said to him. Because nature was giving him an irresistible call. I laughed.

That guy was a slave to his instincts.

I followed in his wake, waiting near enough to the bathrooms that he would see me when he came out, but far enough away that I wouldn't smell them. He returned quickly, a satisfied smile on his childish face. I rolled my eyes, and we turned to the opposite end from where we came from.

When we were safely inside our next train, we sat down and waited for the car to fill up with other passengers. My eyes wandered out of boredom. Two small children were playing tag, weaving in between the legs of the 'grown-ups', and giggling madly. When they ran past an empty seat, my eyes trained themselves upon said seat.

It wasn't empty. Its passenger was a lonely messenger bag.

It seemed ordinary enough. It was made of a blue jean material, and was medium sized. It was covered in various pockets, some bulging out in certain areas. There were pins that had been clipped to the sides, and scribbles drawn in permanent marker declaring the owner's originality. There was even a bit of duct tape sticking out from the bottom, a make-shift repair because said owner probably couldn't sew. The flap was held shut by a belt-buckle style clasp.

No one sat next to it, or even remotely close to it.

I frowned and peered around for the owner, but no one seemed to have a claim on it. I stood hesitantly and took a step towards it, still gazing around for its rightful owner.

Another step.

Another one.

And another.

Still nothing.

People took no notice of the bag. I finished walking to it, and gingerly picked it up, instinctively expecting someone to give a cry of protest and exclamation, and then accuse me of stealing their precious belonging.

No one did.

I strapped it over my shoulder and moved back to Emmett, who was watching me curiously now.

"I'll return it to the lost and found at the next station," I explained. The questioning look in his eyes disappeared, and he nodded.

Through the entire ride, I found myself tempted to open the bag, and see what was inside. But each time my hand reached for the clip on the side, I would think of Pandora's Box, and force myself to stop.

_Curiosity killed the cat_, I scolded myself mentally.

_And satisfaction brought it back_, another voice in my head answered.

I shook my head. There was a soft ding from above that told me that this was my stop.

"Later, bro," Emmett said, clapping me on the back and smiling. I nodded vaguely in his direction, still focused on the strange item.

"Yeah… Bye." I murmured. I departed and turned in the direction of the _Lost and Found _office. I was just one in a sea of bobbing heads, and loud conversation. Supposedly insignificant. But somehow, I felt that my destination was more significant than anybody else's. I finally broke away from the throng that was there at this time of day – every day – that always seemed to come with rush-hour. I touched the handle of the door.

Just as I started to turn the knob, something stopped me.

Something in my subconscious was telling me, screaming at me, to just go home. To keep this strange parcel. Something told me that it was crucial – terribly so – that I listen to this inner voice. That, whatever this bag may hold, it was going to change my life.

I looked down at the bag, and in an impulse, split-second decision, I snapped open the clasp and lifted the flap.

Inside, there was a camcorder, a notebook, a cell phone, a wallet, and several other miscellaneous items. I closed the bag, and walked away from the office.

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_PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!! if i have not recieved ten reviews by the third chapter, this story will be discontinued and deleted. thank you. _

_izzy x edward_


	2. Chapter 2

_well, i suppose i don't have a choice but to continue this story, because i have recieved thirty-three reviews after just one chapter. I am extremely pleased, and i hope that i recieve even more for this chapter. hint hint, nudge nudge._

_Generic Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, NOT ME!!_

_enjoy_

* * *

Previously: _Inside, there was a camcorder, a notebook, a cell phone, a wallet, and several other miscellaneous items. I closed the bag, and walked away from the office._

Chapter 2

I couldn't say exactly what it was that had possessed me to take something that didn't belong to me. But here I was. Sitting on my black plush leather couch, worn denim bag sitting comfortably in my lap. I ran my fingers over the cold, molded plastic of the pins strapped to the side, and stroked the threadbare strands hanging off the edge of the flap, deep in thought. Each time that I touched the tattered item, I could almost feel the lost owner's warmth seep through my fingers.

"Who do you belong to?" I asked the inanimate object stupidly, as if expecting it to actually answer me. It didn't, of course. But that wasn't about to stop me, though. If anything, I only became even more doggedly stubborn to solve the enigma.

I set the bag down on the couch, and wandered into the kitchen, where I found a pen and pad of paper in one the drawers. I returned to the couch and patted the bag, as if to reassure myself it was still there. I made a list of things that I needed to know if I was to find the owner:

_Who:_

_What:_

_Where:_

_But how do I figure these things out?_, I thought. A moment later I nearly smacked myself in the face. This wasn't going to be hard at all. I would just look at the nametag with the address and phone number that was bound to be attached to the bag somewhere. I threw the pen and paper aside and turned back to the bag, lifting it gingerly into my lap once more.

I held it up, handling it as though it were a small child, and examined it from every angle, looking for some form of identification or another. But I didn't locate any, and I only found myself getting better acquainted with the surface of the bag. I realized that it was probably on the inside of the flap, and I felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of having to open it again, which I had not done since glancing through its contents at the crowded station.

With a smooth twist of my fingers, I un-did the buckle holding the cover down. I lifted the flap up reverently and examined the contents again. I gently shifted things around, looking for an ID of some sort. I shook my head when I didn't find anything, becoming conscious of the fact the owner probably wouldn't want a complete stranger rifling through their personal belongings.

I frowned to myself.

I didn't want to invade this person's privacy, but there were some pretty expensive things in here, and it would really suck if they had to replace all of it. I sighed, and began to carefully remove everything from the bag, setting them down on the glass coffee table in front of me.

The silver camcorder. The well-used denim notebook. The sleek, deep-red cell phone. The flower-patterned wallet. I also extracted a make-up bag, a pair of heels, and some pomegranate mints.

I gazed at the items thoughtfully for a moment, weighing the potential importance of each one. Then I separated them into two piles: Important on the left side, Not-Important on the right. It was obvious which item fit into which category. I turned back to the discarded pen and paper, knowing that they weren't going to be as useless as I had first believed, and set them back on the couch next to me.

I slowly reached out and pulled the wallet off the table, knowing that if there were any kind of identification in it, I wouldn't be able to look through any of the rest of the things without feeling guilty. I flipped it open and flicked through it quickly, looking for anything: name, number, address…

Again, I came up at a blank.

_Whoever had forgotten this stuff on the train must have been really determined for it to _stay_ lost_, I thought frustratedly; still frustrated at not knowing who these things belonged to. The only thing that I knew for sure about this person so far was that it was a girl. No guy would be caught dead with a pair of ostentatious heels in their possession. _Or_ a make-up bag.

_But_, I realized excitedly, _that gives me a justifiable reason to look at the rest of her things. _A shot of adrenaline ran through my veins, and I looked back at the other items on the table with longing.

I felt shocked senseless at my eager curiosity again. I was doing things that were completely out of character. Why hadn't I just left the bag at the station, and let the authorities find this person? Why was I so anxious to learn the identity of the mysterious owner of this bag? Why did I have this fervent inner thirst to learn more about this person?

I shook my head. It made no sense.

I turned my eyes to my right, to the window that replaced the entire east wall, giving me a spectacular view of the tall sky-scrapers dominating the landscape. It was twilight now, and the dusk was making the city begin to glow with an intense orange light. This had always been my favorite time of day, ever since I had been a child. It was the transition between two extremes: night and day… sun and moon… dark and light… But right now, I was too distracted by the enigma of the messenger bag to enjoy it properly.

I sighed angrily. This bag was going to be on the forefront of my thoughts until I solved its mystery. I didn't have a choice in it anymore. I _had_ to figure it out, or I would go mad. I looked back to the miscellaneous items, and took a deep, calming breath. _Here we go._

I reached out towards the camcorder first, still hesitant and unsure, but determined all the same. I lightly tapped the 'power' button, and the screen glowed blue, indicating that the videos that had been recorded were loading. Five seconds later, the most recently watched film began to play. I watched the screen intently:

_The lens was focused on a picture-perfect blonde, who was laughing merrily, looking at someone or something off-screen. She was wearing clothing that hinted at designer origins, indicating that she was probably wealthy. _

"_Bella," she said, voice filled with amusement, "Don't be a_ pansy_. It only stings for a few seconds, and then it's gone."_

"_But I don't like needles," A hesitant, lilting voice came from behind the camera's line of sight. Whoever was controlling the camcorder turned to focus on that person. _

"_Relax, Bella," another female voice came from the one holding the camera, attempting to soothe the camera's subject, "You won't even see the little gun--," but she was cut off by the brunette who was on-screen._

"_Gun?!" she cried. _

_She was very pretty, with wide, intelligent brown eyes, long, straight mahogany hair, a heart-shaped face, and voluptuous lips. There was a crease in her brow, and she seemed to be in complete panic because of whatever they were discussing. _

"Don't worry_," the perfect blonde's voice floated in through the speaker again, "we'll hold your hand through the whole thing." The brunette that the other two referred to as Bella didn't seem the least bit comforted. _

"_That won't help!" she insisted, eyes flashing to something off-camera and back, "Are you absolutely _sure_ that I have to do this?" _

"Bella_," the person who was holding the camera spoke again, "This is _completely _necessary. It's on your list of things to do before you turn thirty!" The soprano voice of the girl speaking was high and insistent. _

"_But, Alice_,_" Bella grumbled, "I'm only twenty-three. I have a good seven years--,"_

"_No! Bella, we're not going to compromise here! This is something that you're going to have to experience, whether it be now or later. And you know what they say," _

"_What?" Bella sounded exasperatedly sarcastic towards the Alice girl._

"'_No time like the present'," Alice said, sounding cheery as ever. _

"_Really?" Bella said, still really disgruntled, "I _personally_ prefer the saying 'Why do today, what you can put off 'til tomorrow?'," A snort was heard from the perfect blonde. _

"_What is today, but yesterday's tomorrow?" She said slyly, returning to the screen, and pushing Bella forcibly to the left. _

"Rosalie_!" Bella exclaimed, more panicked than ever. But the blonde, Rosalie, completely ignored her, and pushed her inside a jewelry shop that was now visible. _

_The camera followed inside, a bell jingling as they all entered. Bella looked as though she were on the brink of fainting, terrified into hyperventilating. Her eyes darted around the small shop, as if claustrophobic. A giggle came from Alice._

"_Rose," she said, "I need you to hold the camera for me for a sec." _

"_Kay," Rosalie said, leaving the screen once more. _

_The camera tilted for a moment, focusing on the ground and shaking around as it was exchanged from one girl to the other. It flicked back upwards again, centering on anxious Bella, who was twisting and untwisting her fingers, and shifting from foot to foot nervously. A small, spiky-haired pixie appeared on screen, looking extremely tiny next to the average sized Bella. Obviously it was Alice. She patted Bella on the arm, and moved to the front desk, where a bored looking Goth sat, drumming her black fingernails against the faux wood. _

"_Welcome to Terry's Jewelry Shop, where we strive to meet all of your expectations and needs," the Goth drawled the clichéd slogan lazily, "How may I help you on this fine day?" _

"_We need an ear-piercing job!" Alice answered cheerily, unaffected by the other girl's boredom. _

"_Sure," The Goth said, pulling out a box. She opened the box and lifted a sterilized needle gun – a pathetic whimper came from Bella – and some different color selections for earrings, "Pick a set, and tell me when you're ready." Bella stepped forward and made a face, rifling through the earrings. _

_The lens zeroed in on her delicate fingers, and the blue studs that she had chosen. Bella's hands shook slightly. The lens zoomed out again._

"_Alright then," The worker said, "Let's get this over with." Bella sat down in a chair nervously, handing the studs she had chosen to the Goth. _

"_Rose," she said, voice breaking, "could you hold my bag?" She lifted a denim messenger bag from her shoulder, and handed it to Rose, behind the camera. _

_The Goth girl put markings on Bella's ears, and cocked the needle gun. She went the first ear, and aligned it with the purple dot. Alice held Bella's hand, giving her an encouraging smile. A loud clicking noise was heard, and Bella bit her lip, and screwed her eyes shut. Her face was extremely pale. The Goth switched sides, and another clicking noise was heard. _

"_All done," she said boredly, looking at Bella with amusement and satisfaction. Apparently, she was a sadist. "Now if you'll just come to the front counter--," _

_Bella fell out of the chair, unconscious. _

The video ended there. I felt oddly giddy and anxious all at the same time.

Giddy because I finally knew the name of the girl who owned the mysterious bag.

Anxious because I didn't know what had happened to her after the screen had blacked.

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_sigh, i'm afraid that i may or may not be able to update this for a while because i have to focus on finishing 1918 before i can do this story proper justice. so it may or may not be on a hiatus. we'll see._

_izzy x edward_

_P.S. oh yeah, ahem: READ AND REVIEW, READ AND REVIEW, READ AND REVIEW!!_

_P.P.S. i forgot to note that there are tons of pictures on my profile if you're wondering what anything looks like._


	3. Chapter 3

_i know i put this on hiatus, but i discovered that i had already written something and had been with-holding it. sorry_

_Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, NOT ME!!_

_enjoy_

* * *

Previously: _The video ended there. I felt oddly giddy and anxious all at the same time. Giddy because I finally knew the name of the girl who owned the mysterious bag. Anxious because I didn't know what had happened to her after the screen had blacked__._

Chapter 3

I spent the better part of that night watching videos on the silver camcorder, losing myself in Bella's stories. By three in the morning, I had gotten a pretty good grasp of the three girls' different personalities.

Rosalie was the very contradiction of the phrase 'dumb blonde'. Where ever the trio filmed themselves, there would be a greasy-haired, acne-ridden teen, gawking at her stupidly. She would flirt with them shamelessly, mooching so many free drinks it made me dizzy to try to count out exactly how much money had been spent. She had an easy, natural confidence, and she had used it to push Bella out of her comfort zone numerous times.

Alice reminded me of a pixie, with her bubbly, care-free nature. She always seemed to have a skip in her step, and would often stop in the middle of the street just to do a graceful little twirl and then keep going. I could tell without meeting her that she was a serious shop-a-holic, and she would often turn on the camera just to get a shot of a pair of shoes or a dress. On one occasion she had literally been dragged away from a shop window, kicking and screaming desperately.

And Bella. . . She was interesting. Excessively so. Her face was always expressive, never concealing any of the emotions she was feeling at the moment. In fact, the only method of protection she seemed to have was to let her hair fall like a curtain between herself and the camera. There was a drastic contrast between Bella and the others – she was extremely shy, almost painfully so, and she seemed hesitant to do spontaneous sorts of things; Alice and Rosalie always had something to do, and they were much more mischievous.

I had also gleaned the reason as to why they were filming themselves: they were trying to complete a long list of things that Bella needed to experience before they turned thirty. Apparently, Alice thought it was necessary to document everything scrupulously, using the camera to preserve the list for posterity.

I had watched as Bella did many ridiculous things; such as going bungee jumping, sky diving, and scuba diving. With each different video (played in order from the earliest to the latest), she seemed to come out of her shell a little more, laughing and having a good time with her friends, though she still remaining resolutely terrified. I couldn't help but admire her.

But while it was entertaining to watch them on the camcorder, I still had an almost over-whelming need to meet them in person. It was a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn't stop gnawing at my insides.

I looked back at the list I had made earlier that night and scanned it, trying to make myself feel like I was doing something useful.

_Who – Isabella Swan, Rosalie Hale, Mary Alice Brandon_

I frowned to myself speculatively. I just couldn't seem to pin their proper names to their faces. They had all been forever imprinted in my mind as Bella, Rose, and Alice.

_What – _

_1) Bella's messenger bag, notebook, cell phone, and wallet_

_2) Rosalie's make-up bag and all items inside, and heels_

_3) Alice's camcorder_

I mused for a moment caught between a memory of the video that had revealed these things to me, and finding a better way to organize my list. . .

_The camera screen lit up, but was blurry. A few seconds later it focused, staring at the ground with its one cycloptic eye. It moved back and forth, as if examining the gum-covered cement, but in reality, its owner had pressed its 'record' button by mistake. _

_A foot would occasionally make an appearance on-screen, stepping on the ground, and pulling back, letting the other foot put itself forward. In the corner the date was the same as yesterday's, and the time was 3:28 p.m. _

_It seemed that the one wielding the camera had finally realized that the film was rolling, most likely alerted by the blinking red light that was sure to be on the back. _

_The lens lifted upwards, and was focused candidly on two girls: a blonde and brunette. Rosalie and Isabella. The lens started bouncing up and down excitedly, as Alice began to skip through the crowded subway station. Bella and Rosalie finally realized that Alice was filming them. While Rosalie fixed her hair self-consciously, Bella threw an irritated look over the camera at Alice. _

"_Awww, Bella, are you still annoyed at me?" Alice whined, sounding rather hurt, "We would've caught a cab, but the rush-hour traffic was killer and you know it!" Bella just shook her head._

"_Well, Alice," she sighed, "If you promise to remind me to say 'no' the next time you want to borrow my car, then I promise to forgive you."_

"_What?!" Alice cried, "I didn't _mean_ to drive it into the Hudson, I swear!! It was an honest mistake!!" Her two companions rolled their eyes. _

"_Accident or otherwise," Bella surmised, "I still had to pay for thousands of dollars worth of damage, and I'm not going to take any more chances."_

_Alice sighed dejectedly, and the camera's eye began to wander through the crowds of people aimlessly, occasionally focusing on a face that had some semblance of uniqueness. _

_There were a few seconds of silence between the three friends, only the babble of the crowds around them filling it. _

_Rosalie finally broke it, entering the screen's view with her finger extended towards a train. "That one." She said. _

_They shoved towards it, moving past hobos, tourists snapping pictures, and business men who couldn't afford taxis. When they finally made it past, they all plopped down in their seats. "Bella could you carry my camcorder in your bag? I don't want to get subway germs on it." Bella rolled her eyes._

"_Sure."_

"_I need you to carry these too." Rose added; producing a heavy looking make-up bag from her purse and removing her heels from her swollen feet. Bella gave a hard, reluctant sigh, setting the messenger bag beside her and taking Rosalie's items before she held her hands out for Alice's. _

_The camera screen flicked off. _

I shook my head, and continued on with my list.

_Where –_

Nowhere, as far as I could see. I had checked all of the items for some sort of phone number or address. I had looked up their names on the internet, finding absolutely nothing. I had opened Bella's cell phone, only to find it dead and un-chargeable because my chord didn't fit into the slot. I had even opened the journal, against my better judgment. Only to find nothing. Again.

It was as though she didn't WANT to be found.

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_haha... just so you all know, this is still on hiatus...again, this is something i wrote a while back...PLEASE READ AND REVIEW...IT MAKES MY DAY...SERIOUSLY._

_izzy x edward_


	4. NO MORE HIATUS

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

as most of you know, most of my stories have been put on hiatus because i felt that i needed to concentrate harder on my first, and still incomplete, work, 1918...however, i have been considering taking this particular story off of hiatus for the last couple of weeks, not only because of the uproarus response i have gotten from both reviewers and fans PMing me, but also because i myself have fallen in love with this story and i want to bring it to life as i first intended.

so, as of today, this story is no longer on hiatus. i will be regularly updating it and 1918.

Izzy x Edward

WARNING: i am going through a particularly rough time at home and in school, so i am afraid that these updates may not be as frequent as they have been in the past. my sincerest apologies, but i am at a point in my life where one letter grade really WILL make the difference. i'll see what i can do.


	5. Chapter 4

**feel free to hate me for not updating in forever. the reason is a combination of not being able to log in for a month due to technical problems on the website, writer's block, and being extremely busy visiting family, going camping and reading breaking dawn. sincerist apologies.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all of its affiliates belong to Stephenie Meyer. NOT ME.**

**enjoy.**

* * *

Previously: _It was as though she didn't WANT to be found._

Chapter 4

I wondered vaguely how much caffeine you had to ingest before you gave yourself a heart attack. I was now running on my ninth cup of coffee, sitting in my cramped little cubicle, writing my latest _How To_ article. The crash was coming on fast, I could tell, but that was the result of an all night video extravaganza. I was still clueless as to how to find Bella Swan, but I was also sure that my determination would pull me through to my goal. I heard a low rapping sound against hollow metal.

"Hey, Edward." called a familiar southern voice from over my shoulder. I turned and saw my favorite editor and good friend Jasper Whitlock leaning against my wall with a mellow expression on his face, knuckles outstretched to knock against one of my filing cabinets.

"How's it going?" He asked casually, as he scanned my cluttered office, his usual easy grin playing at the corners of his lips.

"Fine." I answered, closing the lid of my laptop and stretching in my seat.

"Want to grab some lunch?" He wasn't really asking, as it was custom for us to get something to eat and hang out every work day.

"Sure thing." I said as I grabbed my favorite leather jacket from the back of my chair and stood up. I glanced at the generic clock on the wall and blinked in surprise.

"Wow." I said as we moved out of the tiny space. "One 'o' clock already?"

"Yes." Jasper said with some amusement. "I came by about an hour earlier, but you were too focused to even notice me."

_More like too distracted._ I thought as I nodded and laughed an apology at Jasper. I had spent the better part of the morning brainstorming ways to return the messenger bag to its owner. I couldn't even recall what my article was supposed to be about.

"Those are some monstrous bags underneath your eyes." Jasper noted, curiosity leaking into his voice. "What were you doing last night that distracted you from your beauty sleep?"

"Insomnia's a bitch." I lied, grinning jokingly. The real story was much too crazy. He chuckled appreciatively and changed the subject to the cloudy weather. We sauntered down the hall and into the elevator, falling into a companionable silence as the doors slid shut.

Halfway down the shaft, an awful screeching sound emanated from the outside the elevator, and Jasper and I simultaneously clapped our hand over our ears. With a violent shake that sent both of us tumbling to the floor – him backwards into the wall, and me sprawling forward against the ground – , the elevator came to a halt. Jasper groaned loudly and I cursed under my breath.

"You okay, Edward?" Jasper asked, rubbing his head on the spot it had hit the wall.

"Define 'okay'." I said sarcastically, nursing my newly rug-burned hands. He grinned half-heartedly and hoisted himself up, searching his pockets for something. He extracted his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 911, helping me to my feet in the process.

He chatted with the operator on the other end for several minutes, describing our dilemma in full detail and giving the address. He flicked the phone shut and banged his head back against the wall, forgetting for the moment about the swelling bruise on the crown of his skull.

"Ow." He muttered, glaring at the wall in annoyance. He looked back at me and his expression turned apologetic. "The lady estimated that we would be stuck in here for about three hours or so." I started cursing again in response.

We sat there for a long moment after that, contemplating the situation. The silence broke when his stomach growled. "Ugh." I said. "Thanks for the reminder." I told him, as if it was his fault.

He smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders, sliding down to a crouch. I followed suit, sighing and running my fingers through my hair as I went. I pinched the bridge of my nose out of habit, hoping it would fend off the oncoming migraine.

"I have some breath mints in my pocket." He offered fishing around in his jacket.

"Do you have some lipstick in there too, miss?" I laughed, accepting the two icebreakers he held out.

"Ha ha." He said sarcastically. "You're so funny. My sides are splitting." He rolled his eyes at me and popped his own candy into his mouth.

"Seriously though," I said incredulously. "Why do you have those on you?" He turned a bright red.

"Well…" He muttered, looking hesitant to tell me. I nodded encouragingly, if not condescendingly. "I have this new girlfriend. Her name's Mary, and I'm always so god-damned nervous around her. I'm always thinking about ways I could embarrass myself in front of her."

"So you carry around breath mints with you?" I asked.

"I don't want her to think my breath smells bad." I snickered and he punched my arm with quite a bit of force.

"Sorry." I said in the most unapologetic way possible.

"I really like this girl." He defended himself. Then he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I think she's the one, you know?"

I blinked and nodded as if I understood. Sure, I had dated a few girls, had gone steady once or twice. But it was impossible for me to know exactly what he meant by 'the one'. I had never met anyone who had lit a fire within me, who made me feel electricity at the simplest touch. I hadn't even lost my virginity.

Jasper's stomach rumbled loudly again, reminding me again of the hunger pangs within my own. "Ugh!" He groaned loudly. "I need sustenance! Now!"

"You sound like Emmett." I teased.

"Hey, how is Emmett? I haven't seen that big lug in a while." And with that we were off into lighter topics for the next half hour before we fell into a painful, hungry silence. About an hour after that Jasper went to sleep and I started pacing a circle around the elevator. My thoughts were back on the messenger bag and Bella Swan.

There was no address or phone number attached to the bag. Her cell phone was thoroughly dead and un-chargeable. She wasn't listed in the phone book, and neither were Rosalie or Alice. What was the next logical step? I paced for a while longer, thinking through my resources. I could Google her name, though that probably wouldn't give me the information I needed, even if her name _did_ come up. There was a serial number on Alice's camcorder, but I would more likely than not need a password of some kind to get onto any online accounts.

Frustrating. This was so frustrating. I sat down again and put my head between my knees, wanting desperately to take a break from thinking.

I counted the number of buttons on the elevator door eleven tines. Counted the two cameras hidden behind the whirring lights. Counted Jasper's snores until I hit three hundred and sixty seven. Counted the number of cousins on both sides of my family – which was a lot.

I went through a mental list of chores that needed to be done at home. Washing the dishes. Vacuuming the carpet. Doing the laundry. Changing the bed sheets. Watering the plants.

Jasper woke up somewhere in the middle of that exercise and looked around blearily, clearly not remembering where he had fallen asleep. "Hey." I greeted him boredly, yawning widely.

"Mmph." He replied, still trying to get his bearings. "How long have I been out?" His voice was thick with sleep and his southern accent.

"A couple of –," I began, but was cut off by a might wrenching sound from outside the doors. We both looked up in alarm, and then relief as we realized that it was probably help.

We jumped up expectantly, and five minutes later we were outside giving the fireman warm, profuse thank you's. Although we were reassured that it was most certainly safe to let the elevator take us the rest of the way down, we still took the stairs, as we probably would be doing for the next two weeks.

"You still want to get something to eat?" Jasper asked, checking his watch. "Although it'll be dinner instead of lunch." He chuckled.

"Nah." I murmured, waving off the suggestion with my hand. "I just want to go home now." I informed him. He laughed.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." He winked at me then. "I have a hot date in a couple hours."

I gave him the thumbs up and waved a cab down. "See you tomorrow, Jazz."

By the time I got home I was absolutely exhausted, both from my caffeine crash and my long night before hand. I ordered Chinese take-out and flopped down on the couch, patting the messenger bag laying on the coffee table before grabbing the remote and flicking to some random college football game.

There was a loud knocking at my door, and I assumed it was the delivery guy, so I got up to answer the door. A split-second after the door was open I was barreled down by my burly brother as he stormed inside, not even bothering to wipe his feet before he stomped his grimy shoes against the carpet.

"Where were you today?" He asked as he shuffled to my fridge and began ripping through its contents.

"Help yourself." I muttered, going back to flop on the couch. I froze when I saw the messenger bag sitting guiltily on the coffee table, shooting a glance back at Emmett, who still had his face stuffed into the refrigerator, fortunately.

"I was worried about you, bro." He informed me, tossing the ingredients for a sandwich behind him.

I ignored his question again. "I'll be right back." I informed him in a voice three or four octaves higher than usual. I snatched the bag and sprinted to my bedroom, hastily shoving it under my bed. Knowing Emmett, he probably wouldn't even remember the bag from yesterday, but I wasn't about to take any chances. That was an embarrassing situation waiting to happen.

When I got back, another knock sounded on the door and I took the food from the delivery guy gratefully, giving him an extra large tip. Emmett was already eating by the time I sat down at the kitchen table.

"You haven't answered my question yet, man." He said through a mouthful of food. "Why didn't you meet me on the subway today?"

"I took a cab today." I said between bites of fried rice. "Jasper and I got stuck in the elevator."

He laughed loudly at that, spraying bits of chewed food at my face. I scowled and wiped them away with a napkin with disgust. "Just your luck, bro." He chuckled. He stayed for about an hour after that, yelling at the television animatedly. It was a relief to me as he grabbed his scarf and waved, slamming the door behind him. I wanted to hit the sack early.

I took a long, thirty minute shower, trying to wash away the stress in my muscles. Something nagged at the edges of my mind as I shampooed my hair, and I frowned in concentration, trying to find out what it was. I gave up as soon as I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out from behind the curtain, drying off quickly and slipping into an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

It wasn't until three in the morning, when I jolted from the middle of a dream to upright in bed, that I figured it out. Jasper's girlfriend's name was Mary, he said. I frowned at that, knowing that it was a one in a million chance that she was Alice from the camcorder videos. I still had the impulse to ask though, and it couldn't wait.

I seized the phone from its cradle, typing out Jasper's number in a blur. I had to hang up several times due to my jittery fingers, but I finally got it in the end. Four rings later, He picked up.

"'Lo?" His voice was thick with sleep again.

"It's me, Jasper." I said impatiently.

"Edward?" His thick voice was puzzled. "What could you possible want at this hour?"

"You mentioned your girlfriend's name was Mary, this afternoon." I said in a rush, barely able to pick out the individual words myself. "Tell me, Jazz, what's her full name?"

"Mary Alice Brandon. Why?" But I hung up without an answer.

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**maybe if you review, i'll update faster. much much faster.**

**izzy x edward**


	6. Chapter 5

_So, raise your hand if you want to beat me with a stick. Haha, yeah, I'm really sorry that it has been a dry pool of updates, but my sophomore year started a few months ago and since that time, I haven't had a moment of peace. Between swim team, and fundraising for my trip to China next summer (haha, suckers – I get see to the ******* pandas… and my parents won't be present… and I'm going to see the Olympic stadium where Michael Phelps made history… I knew taking Chinese would pay off), and keeping up with the ghost of my social life, and fighting with my dad, and getting in my hours to get my license, and schoolwork (notice how it comes at the bottom of the list.) I have had no time to write for this story. Please accept my humblest apologies. _

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Previously: _"Mary Alice Brandon. Why?" But I hung up without an answer._

Chapter 5

There it was again. That embarrassed pang at the back of my head. I mean, here I was, sitting in the middle of a high-end Chinese restaurant, waiting for someone that I didn't even know. Well, I knew her – kind of – but she didn't know me. I wondered how 'stalker' was defined in the dictionary.

After my night-owl phone-call with Jasper, I had stayed up all night contemplating my sanity.

It didn't take long to think through. I was crazy, and I knew it. Normal people don't decide to play Fate. Sane people don't become obsessed with people they haven't seen in person – actually, they don't become obsessed at all. And psychologically sound people _definitely_ don't call their best friend's girlfriend and invite them to lunch – without said best friend's knowledge.

The next day Jasper and I had gone out to lunch as usual; it was a local sandwich deli this time. It was popular on Fridays, and that day had been no exception. He shoved his way into line and I weaseled out a table. He handed me his crap, and told me not to be a dipshit and lose it. I answered sarcastically that I would try my hardest to fight the urge to throw it in the trash.

It took me a while to find a spot, but eventually a couple of high school girls moved aside from their window seats – giggling flirtatiously at me as they threw their trash away. I noticed that they had left numbers on the napkins remaining on the table, and I threw them away in disgust. Insane, yes. Pedophilic, no.

I ran my fingers through my messy hair, and rubbed at the five-o-clock shadow on my jaw. My thoughts were going back to old messenger bag, as they seemed to be doing a lot lately. Consequentially, this made me think of my little discovery and how I was supposed to handle the situation. And then I was blind-sided by an idea. Brilliant, but stupid. Without thinking about it, I shuffled through Jasper's belongings and found his phone. I flipped through the contacts quickly as possible and found her name. I transferred the number to my phone as discreetly as possible and put his phone back into his jacket pocket.

Lunatic. I was an utter _lunatic_. And I was oddly okay with it.

I was twiddling with my thumbs idly when the waitress made an appearance.

"Someone up says they're here to see you, Mr. Cullen." She said. I could barely hear her; she was so quiet. "Her name is Ms. Brandon…?" I gave her a warm smile and nodded. She returned it nervously and flitted away.

My nerves were buzzing and I couldn't stop twitching. It took all of my restraint not to bolt before Alice made her appearance; she would most certainly pin me as the psychopath that I was. Underneath my embarrassed surface of emotion, I was surprised at how much I felt I needed Ms. Brandon's approval. It shouldn't matter to me. She was just a stranger. Then again, I felt like I knew her quite well, but that was only the Alice I knew in the videos. What if she was different in reality?

"Hello, Mr. Cullen." Her bright and cheery voice broke through my reverie. I looked up and blinked in surprise when I saw her blinding smile. I stood up abruptly and thanked the waitress and thanked her blandly. The nervous Asian woman murmured something unintelligible and stumbled away.

Alice was much shorter than I had perceived her in the videos. She only came up to my mid-bicep. She was still smiling at me brightly. I wondered if she was crazy too and grinned at the thought. We'd get along just fine if that was the case.

"Hello, Ms. Brandon." I answered a bit late, but she didn't seem to mind much, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. She motioned for me to seat myself as well, as if she were the one that had arranged this meeting. I sat.

We were silent for a long time, but it wasn't awkward; we were too busy sizing each other up for it to be tense. She looked down and ripped open her package of chopsticks. She pulled them out daintily and held them out towards me. I blinked at them and looked to her face.

"Could you open them for me? If I do, I'll get a splinter." I smirked and snapped them apart for her.

"You sound like it's a sure thing." I said, ready to weigh her reply. The Alice I knew from the videos had an uncanny sense of intuition.

"It was." She corrected. Her face was more cautious now. "Mr. Cullen, why don't you tell me why I'm here?" She didn't sound remotely curious; she knew my answer and was already considering her reply. My lips twitched. This Alice was parallel to video-Alice.

"I have something that belongs to you." I said quietly. "But you already know that." She was playing the dumb façade and it irritated me.

The nervous waitress was back. "What can I get you two?" She was clicking her pen annoyingly.

"Just water for now." I sighed, not particularly hungry.

"The same for me." Alice said, tapping her chopsticks on the table like a pair of drum sticks. The waitress shot off in the directions of the kitchen.

"Poor girl." Alice noted, still drumming on the table.

"What?" I looked over at her, mystified.

"She has a little crush on you, Cullen." I raised my eyebrows.

"When did you decide to drop the 'Mr.'?" I asked, not acknowledging her assessment.

"We're going to be friends, Edward." Alice said simply, flicking open her menu and browsed the selection in a bored sort of way. I was taken aback by her ease with saying something so heavy. But I believed her.

"I see." I said, mimicking her and opening my menu. When I looked up again, she was absolutely beaming at me. I shot her a puzzled look.

"It's nice to know that you're accepting it so easily. It took me forever to crack Bella's egg." She explained without a question to answer. "You understand me. And I you." Oh yeah. This girl was a weirdo. But I think that's why we were going to get along so well. Two peas in a pod.

Again with the nervous waitress. "Have you two decided?" She murmured, giving me a sideways glance that was a confirmation of Alice's observation.

"Some vegetarian egg rolls, please." Alice said in a sing-song voice. I wondered if she was being condescending.

"Chicken Lomein." I handed her my menu, and she scampered away. Alice let out a bubbly giggle. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

"So. About my stuff." She looked at me with an easy smile and raised her eyebrows pointedly.

"I'm just returning your belongings, Alice. Please don't make me sound like a drug-dealer." She laughed more loudly than necessary and several people swiveled in their chairs to send her snobbish, scandalized looks. Alice crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue playfully and I snickered. Her unfailing immaturity reminded me of Emmett, although he was a bit different in his style.

"Come on, Edward. Let's cut to the chase here. Or did you lie over the phone about my things?" I reached under the table and pulled up what had become my constant companion over the past couple of days. Alice reached for it eagerly and I slid it across the table to her. Quicker than I thought possible, she had flicked open the cover, pulled out her precious camcorder, and sent the bag back to me across the table. I frowned at her as she cradled and caressed her camera like a long-lost child.

"Don't you want the bag as well?" She looked at me and a mischievous spark floated through her dusky grey eyes.

"Why would I want that?" She asked coyly.

"So you can return it to your friends." I said, fighting the impatience in my voice.

"But you should do that, so they can give you proper thanks." Still coy. I fought the irritation. I just wanted to wash my hands of this crazy obsession.

"It doesn't really matter to me," I pressed, shoving the back at her. I didn't like the way it was still calling to me like a beacon of fate.

"But it _will_ matter to _them_." Her voice was no longer coy. It was determined. I stared at her unfathomably as she pushed it back to me. Not normal. But neither was I.

"Alice." I leaned forward and locked my gaze with hers, trying hard to be persuasive. "Alice, can't you just do me a favor?" She wasn't affected like most people usually were when I pressed for something. She smirked at me.

"Common courtesy, Edward." She grinned.

"The kind of courtesy _isn't_ common." I was still using my most persuasive voice with her, though I knew she would win. _Come on, Alice. Help me wash my hands of the Crazy._

"Why are you so set on having me deliver it?" She suddenly leaned back and fit her fingers together. I somehow saw the Godfather in this small, elfish woman. The concept was ridiculous and I snorted.

"Because it's easier. I don't have a lot of time on my hands." Lie. I had all the time in the world. My job was convenient. _Can't you see I don't want to be so obsessed with something that has nothing to do with me? _Help me_, Alice._

"Then we'll go see h—um—_them_ right now." I froze in shock. Go…right…now? "Come on, Edward. You have the day off." She whined. My eyes narrowed.

"I never told you that." She looked sheepish.

"Um…Jasper told me?" It came out as a question. She was hiding something. The tables had turned.

"You have some explaining to do, Ms. Brandon." She finally showed her temper and bristled.

"So do you, Mr. Cullen." I noticed that she had followed suit in usage of surnames. I folded my hands on the table and smiled.

"Ladies first." I said calmly. She scowled at me and opened her mouth to say something testy, I was sure, but the jumpy waitress was back once again. She clanged the plates together quite and bit as she set them down.

"Enjoy your meal." She said, looking at me sideways again. I don't know what happened, but suddenly a more confident smile was on her face when she looked at me. I looked down at my food. Not interested. I was never interested. Then the waitress was gone again.

"Well." Alice said, suddenly without reserve. "I know your name from both Jasper and your articles, Edward. I used to work as a photographer for a newspaper before I landed my job with Vogue, and I'm afraid that my habit of scoping out competition didn't go away with the occupation. I've seen that you have some underlying talent under those ridiculous stories." Her lip curled back and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't write those out of my own interest." I interrupted her icily.

"Of course." She agreed without teasing or questioning. "Anyway, when you called me a couple of days ago, I decided to do some research and make sure that you weren't some… you know. My job has its perks – it wasn't too much trouble to dig up your files." I raised my eyebrows. What _kind_ of files? "I decided that you were legit, and here we are." She folded her arms resolutely and waited for my rebuff.

"Files." I said blankly.

"You know: work schedule, address, dental records." Dental records. And I thought _I_ was a stalker. "Come on Cullen, give me the dirt. How'd you find me out?" Her voice was easy again. Playful banter.

"It was difficult, tracking you three down," I sighed, rolling my neck around to get rid of the kinks. "There wasn't any kind of identification inside the bag, or in the wallet. The cell phone was dead, and wouldn't charge with my cord, and I figured that it was a waste of money to go buy one that went with it. So…" I flinched mentally as I prepared for her reaction. "I tried looking at the camcorder, and ended up watching all the videos." Alice giggled. _Giggled. _What the hell? Who laughs at a creepy—?

"Sorry, Edward." She said, looking at my bemused expression. "It's just a bit funny how determined you were, when you could've just left it at the Lost and Found office at the station." My head hung and she continued quickly. "Don't worry, Edward. I probably would've done the same thing."

_Yes. Very reassuring. _You're _probably crazy too. _Despite my biting, sarcastic thoughts, I couldn't help but be slightly comforted by her words. I continued with my head still down.

"So I found out your names. I tried looking through the phonebook. I tried calling the New York operator. I tried looking online. I couldn't find you anywhere." I gave Alice a frustrated look, and she returned it pityingly. "Then Jasper mentioned your name in passing, and I made a connection." She blinked.

"And he just _gave_ you my number?" She said.

"No. I stole it off his phone." I sounded sheepish and embarrassed again. "But why couldn't I find you on the internet or—," She cut me off.

"You should ask a certain someone else. That's not my place to explain." Alice responded, and I recognized the 'protective' mode that girls sometimes went into when protecting a friend's secret. I sighed and nodded.

We both stood at the same time and laughed. Neither of us had so much as touched our food, but we had somehow come to the silent, mutual agreement that neither of us was really hungry. I left a generous bill on the table. We strolled out of the restaurant together. I decided that I liked Alice.

I didn't think about it as I turned away from her toward the subway entrance, bag over my shoulder. Then her hand clamped around my jacket. I looked down at her in surprise and she grinned.

"Come on, Edward." She said with a grin. "When I said 'right now', I meant 'right now'."

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_I'm sorry if you readers would prefer if it were Bella he was meeting, but I just wanted explore the relationship Edward has with Alice because so few writers do. What I'm trying to do is flesh Edward out. _

_ATTENTION!!! ATTENTION!!! ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!__ATTENTION!!!_

_I have a proposition for you guys. I'm trying to reach 1000 reviews by the time this story is finished. Now, I'm not asking this of you all without some sort of reward for reviewing. Because everyone who reviews will receive special bonus material. Now, I'm not saying what it is, but trust me, it'll be worth your while. Sometimes it'll be a different POV, sometimes it'll be cut scenes – who knows, maybe even a preview of the next chapter. So yeah, review to win your prize._

_Izzy x Edward. _


	7. Chapter 6

_Ha-ha. *triumphant.* It only took me a couple of days, not months. Thanks so much for those of you who reviewed and got the bonus – which was the missing phone conversation between Alice and Edward. Don't worry those of you who haven't reviewed. You have two weeks left to do it so you can get the bonus. But that's my limit, I'm afraid. _

_Enjoy. _

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Previously: _"Come on, Edward." She said with a grin. "When I said 'right now', I meant 'right now'."_

Chapter 6

"So I could've brought my Porsche to the restaurant today, but I felt like I needed a nice, breezy walk." Ugh.

"She's a Porsche 911 Turbo, you know. Canary yellow. Black leather seats. And super big cup holders for my vente lattes from Starbucks!" Forty-two blocks of sadism. That's what this was.

"You should really get a look at her, Edward. You're a car enthusiast right? It said so in your files." How the hell did she do it?

"She just purrs on the road. And Rosalie – you know Rose from the videos – fixed her up so she can go real fast. I took her out to the country once. Nice curvy roads they've got out there." With a _smile_ on her face?

"You're probably wondering why I'm calling the car a 'she'. It's a long story, but I just _know_ that she's a girl." And a _bounce_ in her step?

"Her name is Tweetie! You know, just like in those old cartoons with the canary and the pussy cat. Sylvester?" Did she have super powers or something?

"I tried to get Bella to name _her_ car, but she wouldn't have any of it. Something about ridiculous immaturity with inanimate objects. I can't remember the _exact _conversation." Maybe if I had some kryptonite she'd shut up.

"What kind of car do you have, Edward? I'm guessing it's a classy brand – you don't look like the cheap type. Maybe a Chrysler?" Alice had been babbling nonstop from the restaurant, dragging me across the side-walk by my arm like a rag-doll.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "Oh, no, not a Chrysler! A _Vol_vo!" After the first twenty blocks I stopped attempting to answer her, but she just kept on at it.

"Do you have a Volvo, Edward?" I resisted the overwhelming urge to chew my own arm off.

"Yes, Alice. I have a Volvo." I hissed. She gave an indignant huff of air, stopping short at a busy intersection.

"Well." She sounded offended in a puffed-up kind of way. "No need to get snippy about it!" I looked down at her.

"Do you ever shut up, Alice?" I inquired, trying to sound playful so as to avoid hurting her feelings; I ended up sounding sour.

"Are you always this moody?" She whined, avoiding my question. "Because I think I'd just _die_, if I was that moody."

"I bet." I muttered. Alice tugged on my wrist, and I had the distinct impression that I was just a dog on a leash to her.

"I should've known you were an emo." She muttered under her breath, actually glancing at my forearms to make sure I wasn't a cutter. I let out a huff of indignance, and she sent me a half apologetic, half amused glance.

I noticed that she hopped from white line to white line as we crossed the street – just like a little kid. I couldn't help but smile at the look of utter concentration on her face; her tongue was sticking out a bit to the side, eyes were screwed up hard. But it was slightly awkward because she was holding onto my arm as she did it, so I kept getting dragged forward at broken intervals – and she was much shorter than me; I had to bend down quite a bit. We must've looked ridiculous to passer-by.

When we finally made it to the other side, I twisted my wrist out of her grasp and straightened my posture. She crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath in response.

"Jeez, sorry, Alice. But you were cutting off the circulation to my hand." Her face whirled up to look at me; she was blinking in confusion.

"Wha – oh, no! Wasn't about you." Her brow smoothed of its furrows. Her voice dropped then. "That woman back there – did you _see_ her awful hat? It was just horrid! I mean, _come on_. Lime green?" Her tiny frame shuddered comically.

"Whatever you say, Alice." I rolled my neck to get the kinks out. Bending over for long periods of time wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Yup." Her reply was absent. We were now standing outside of a large, well-taken care of building with the words 'Palmetto Apartment Complex' and an address printed neatly in fancy gold lettering on its side. There was a spinning glass door leading to the lobby. Alice was typing something onto a numbered keyboard attached to the wall next to the door. A soft _ping_ alerted me, and the automatic doors began to move. Alice gestured me forward, and we stepped forward into one of the hollows of the revolving door.

It was warm inside, and everything seemed to be painted with welcoming, sunny colors. The carpets were plush gold, and there were comfy looking sofas and chairs everywhere. A roaring fireplace was nestled in the wall opposite us. A young, clean-shaven man sat behind the receptionist's desk to our right and he smiled lightly at us as we entered.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Brandon." He said politely to her, bowing his head.

"Hello, Chad." Alice said with familiarity, bouncing past toward a hallway that was adjacent to the fireplace.

I thought of my own complex, which was a stark contrast. The lobby was a dank, harsh white, and the old woman behind the desk was bitter and grumpy. I had an errant thought of moving here instead, but I dismissed it as quickly as it came. The price of this place was probably outrageous.

I followed Alice to the hallway, where the floor was a white marble. There were two different elevator shafts, both of their doorways a brass color. Alice slipped a card out of her pocket and slid it into a slot next to the left elevator. A similar _ping_ to the one outside sang, and the doors slid open. Alice jumped inside eagerly, grabbing my wrist again. The elevator was devoid of tinkling, generic music, and it slid up three floors smoothly without so much as a whir.

The doors opened, and I was struck again by how fancy it was compared to my own abode. I assumed that every apartment had it own exclusive floor; it wasn't set up like some hotel – her apartment was directly outside the elevator doors. Alice's home was…strange. Like there was more than one style of décor.

The technology was obviously sleek and high-end: the plasma flat-screen, the thermometer system on the wall, the stereo-system in the corner, etc. But the furniture was so old and vintage, with classic oak bookshelves next to the window, velvety armchairs and a loveseat, and a clawed wooden coffee table. And the artwork on the walls was abstract – covered in collages of magazine covers and white canvases splattered with paint.

The design of the apartment itself was a strange mixture of all three. The floor was covered in a thick maroon carpet that I suspected could hide stains of many sorts and the walls were a peachy color that softened the carpet's tone. There was a large, circular window on the far wall that was a mixture of stained and clear glass. There was a set of two stairs that led down to the living room which were made of a transparent material.

I liked it, but wondered why there were so many conflicting designs. Room-mates? I screwed up my eyes, trying to remember if Alice mentioned anything about roommates in the videos. Maybe… I couldn't remember.

"Do you like it?" Alice's voice broke through my reverie. I looked down at her and smiled.

"It's pretty great." She beamed at me. "Could I get some water or something? That walk parched me." I groaned.

"It wasn't that far!" She protested, but hopped down the two transparent stairs and headed through a doorway on the right. I stepped down hesitantly; wandering to the bookshelves attached the wall. They were filled to maximum capacity, with books stacked on top of books. I lightly snatched a selection. Anne Rice?

A loud gasp came from behind me and I spun around, feeling guilty about going through Alice's things without her permission. But it wasn't Alice standing there looking shocked.

It was Rosalie.

And she didn't look shocked. She looked _pissed_.

"ALICE!" She screamed, flitting through the kitchen doorway and away. Alice reply was muffled through the door – I couldn't hear it. But I could still definitely hear Rose.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!" She roared. I turned and put the book back. Oh yeah. Rosalie and Bella were Alice's roommates. I wondered how I could forget a detail like that. And then I felt ashamed again because I had invaded their privacy. Alice's voice was loud enough for me to hear her this time.

"Edward." She sounded firm, as if she wanted Rose to get used to it – fast.

"WHAT ABOUT JASPER?!" I nearly laughed. _She_ thought _Alice_ was cheating with _me_? Preposterous.

"What about him?" Alice's voice was innocent.

"YOU'RE HIS _GIRLFRIEND_, ALICE! DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE WHEN YOU BRING ANOTHER GUY HOME WITH YOU?!" Rosalie sounded like she was on the verge of murder.

"Rosalie…" Then Alice's voice became gentler and I couldn't hear her through the door anymore. Then I felt embarrassed just standing there. I wasn't sure if I should sit down or stay where I was or just leave.

Another figure appeared from the hallway. Bella.

She stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I looked back with mild interest, still embarrassed beyond words. Would she react similarly? After the initial shock of seeing me here faded away, she turned a violent shade of red and started to look anywhere but at me. The walls, the ceiling, the floor… Rosalie and Alice's conversation continued, still heavily muffled by the door.

"Um…" Bella was still tomato red as she tried to articulate her thoughts. "Uh…" She shuffled her feet and looked up at me through her eyelashes shyly. I tilted my head to the side and stared at her. What was wrong with her?

"My bag!" She cried suddenly, seeming to break out of her awkward stupor. I saw her eyes trained on the parcel at my side. Her face was lit up and she stepped forward excitedly, altogether forgetting her bemusement. She stumbled though, and her foot caught on the let of the coffee table. In a strange, almost comical motion, her body twisted and she fell on her back. She left out a sharp huff of air and stared dazedly at the ceiling as if she had no idea how she got there. It was difficult not to laugh, so I stifled it against my forearm.

Real Bella was as clumsy as video Bella.

"Are you okay?" I asked through my chuckles as I leaned over to help her up. Blood darkened her face again.

Rosalie stormed into the room, Alice hot on her heels. The only thing she seemed to register was Bella on the ground, with me leaning over her. She snapped.

She threw herself at me, and it took some effort on my part not to fight back. I closed my eyes and felt her hands hitting every inch of my skin they could reach. It was difficult not to whimper as her nails cut into my skin and her feet made contact with my shins, but I managed to remain silent. Rose, on the other hand, would've made a sailor flinch with the curses that she was flinging into the air. I heard Alice behind her, trying to mollify her. It wasn't really working.

It took about thirty seconds, but eventually I had enough, and I opened my eyes. In a quick movement I snatched her wrists and held them together gently but firmly. Rose was having none of this and immediately kneed me right where it hurt. My eyes widened and I doubled over.

"Ha." Rose sneered at me from above. "Good luck having kids. Bastard."

I could barely pay attention to her words though. I was too busy trying not to cry. Wrong. Wrong on so many levels.

"Rosalie." Alice hissed, sounding angry. "He was _not_ molesting Bella!"

"What?" Rose sounded surprised, maybe even a bit guilty.

"I tripped… He was just helping me up." Bella muttered. Then she sounded curious. "Who _is_ this, Alice?"

"This, my friend, is Edward." She said. "And he'll be helping with number forty-one of your list."

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_Review and I'll send you a surprise. Yes, I'm completely serious. And no, I won't tell you what it is. Just do it. _

_izzy x edward _


	8. Chapter 7

_I'm sorry that this was another slow update. I started swimming right around the last chapter was posted and that pretty much ruined my planned schedule. Two and a half hour practices a day doesn't put you in the writing mood, if you know what I mean. And then there's been so much drama within my group of friends that this story stayed at the back of my mind. And then there was still homework to do… So yeah – I apologize again. By the way – I can't tell you the what number forty-one is – you'll just have to find out. _

_Anyway, I am no longer replying to reviews for chapters six and seven – and to those of you who reviewed anonymously have to pm me if you want that gift. Again, same thing goes for this chapter – review and get a prize! I'm trying to hit a thousand. _

_Enjoy_

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Previously: _"This, my friend, is Edward." She said. "And he'll be helping with number forty-one of your list." _

Chapter 7

I remember in the third grade we spent a week learning about magnets in science class. A magnet had two poles, the teacher told us, a north pole and a south pole. Opposites attracted and, conversely, matching poles repelled each other.

Rosalie and I were a lot like those magnets. She clung to the arm of one side of the couch, and I to the other. Two people could've sat comfortably between us – which was saying something because it was a loveseat. Obviously we were both south poles.

I ignored Rose's antagonistic glare and focused my gaze on Alice, whose slim fingers were sliding through her frowzy mop of hair, and her face was scrunched with distress. She was sitting on the arm of Bella's chair, and Bella was glancing around nervously; I noticed that she was avoiding eye-contact with me in particular.

It was an awkward silence if there ever was one.

Not that I much noticed the stiltedness of the moment, as I was still feeling a throbbing ache where Rosalie had injured me. Alice had gotten me ice, but my ego wouldn't let me accept it. Something about holding cold relief to my crotch wasn't manly.

Finally – surprisingly – Bella spoke first, "Alice," Her voice was weak with shock. "What's going on?" She was looking pointedly at me for the first time since she had tripped. I was surprised how deep her eyes were, as brown eyes were normally quite flat in their darkness. I was so entranced that I almost didn't hear Alice's reply.

"He's a friend of mine." She sighed. "He was just dropping by for a visit before Rosalie went psycho." Rosalie's posture snapped straight immediately in response and her violet eyes flashed dangerously.

"I. Did. Not. Go. Psycho." She ground out, each individual word blazing with malice. "Don't make me sound like a mental case." Alice rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please, Rose. You basically ripped Edward's head off, and the poor guy hadn't even introduced himself yet!" Alice argued. Rose was struggling to hide her contrite look, but her bold features were so expressive that she failed epically.

"Well what did you expect me to think?" She muttered, glancing at me discreetly from the corner of her eye. "Random stranger, rifling through our books, on top of Bella," She lifted up her flawless fingers and ticked them off as she went through everything I had done, and Bella's face burned. "He didn't even give any explanation." She pursed her lips and glared at me warily. I said nothing. Alice could handle her better than me. By far.

"You were supposed to trust my judgment." Alice replied in a clipped tone. I sensed a storm brewing between the two of them and apparently Bella did too, because a second later she was standing between the two of them placatingly.

"It's over and done with. Let's not fight." She pleaded gently. "Besides…we have a guest." She peeked at me from under her thick lashes shyly and stepped forward. Her hand drifted to me in offering. "Isabella Swan. But I prefer Bella." I accepted her hand and gave it a slight shake.

"Edward Cullen." My voice was slow and cautious. I wasn't sure how much she had assumed when she had seen her bag slung around my shoulder. Surely that I was strange, at the least. What else she thought about me, I couldn't possibly fathom.

I didn't expect her to turn the bright red that she did. Nor did I expect her to yank her hand back as quickly as she did. She whirled away and mumbled quietly, "Rose. Introduce yourself." I drew my attention away from Bella and focused it on Rose, though I couldn't help but continue to feel confusion about the former's reaction.

"Hi. Rosalie Hale." Her voice was sharp and reluctant. I saw it as progress.

"Excellent." Alice said, no introduction needed. "Anyone for tea?"

"I have to get going." I said matter-of-factly. "Thank you though, Alice." I would've accepted, but I think Rosalie might have had an aneurism if I did. Obviously, now wasn't the time to push my tightly stretched luck. Alice looked like she had expected as much, and suddenly had a calculating look on her face.

"You don't want to walk all the way back to your apartment." She stated it as fact and not a question. I felt like a dog being told what to feel and it was a struggle to keep the scowl from my face at this thought. "I'll drive you."

I nodded my head obediently and slipped on my coat. Alice danced to a closet and plucked a jacket from its depths. I nodded with mechanic politeness to the others, and Alice and I were about to cross the threshold of the elevator when Alice suddenly slapped her forehead in an overly theatrical movement.

"Oh, no!" Her high voice keened in fake disappointment. "I can't! There's a big project for work I forgot about. Darn." I wondered how many times she had rehearsed this in her head. She drooped her way back into the room, but then perked up in a jerky movement, snapping her fingers together.

"Bella will take you!" She cried, as if it were some genius plan.

I was perplexed. Bella looked horrified. Rosalie was glaring daggers. And Alice was…Alice – overwhelmingly perky and excited.

"But…" Bella's sentence trailed off to the place where all unfinished speeches go – silence. I felt bad for her. She clearly didn't have any intention of driving me all forty-something blocks back to where I came from – not that I blamed her.

"That's okay, Alice." I said calmly, not having it in me to upset Bella. I wouldn't want to ride with me either. "Walking's fine." Alice's teeth snapped together in a grit.

"No, no, Edward." She said forcefully. "It's no trouble at all." The fiery look she gave me told me that I clearly had no such choice. Then she fixed Bella under her steely stare. "Right, Bella?"

Bella looked bewildered. "O-okay." She stuttered, flushing for what seemed like the millionth time, and I stifled a laugh. It was one of the funny, endearing traits that I had liked so much about her in the videos I had watched. She tripped forward next to me and we both stepped into the elevator together.

"Be safe!" Alice shouted with a wicked smile as the doors slid shut. Immediately the silence rang against my ears. It was a relief. I looked down at Bella. Never mind. It was terrifying.

Bella wasn't a much of a talker. And, truthfully, nor was I. But I felt obligated to try. "So…" My interjection floated through the air without response. _Oh, nice stab at conversation, Edward_, I thought sarcastically to myself. I tried again.

"Tell me about yourself." I forced out. She looked at me with her usual flushed color rosying her cheeks. Confusion swirled in her dark, pensive eyes.

"Like what?" Her soft voice lilted.

"Where'd you grow up?" I had tried to grasp at an easy subject, but she suddenly grew morose.

"Phoenix." Her voice was flat and unwelcoming. I decided not to probe her.

"How did you meet Alice?" I asked tactfully. She looked surprisingly grateful.

"College. We were both in a sorority. We bonded over freshmen rush week." She said with a sheepish sort of smile.

"Ah. Hazing?" I asked knowingly. She nodded and smiled. I grinned back.

"I was a nerd in college." I said. "Spent more time studying than socializing. Conversation isn't really my forte." She looked pleased for some reason.

"Me neither." Her head shook vigorously. "Too shy."

"Rush week must have been hell for you then." I mused to myself, trying to imagine Bella making an attempt to mingle with an entire room full of sorority girls.

"Yeah. I was lucky that I was a legacy. My mother did it too," She said, "Otherwise; I would've been rejected for sure." I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. The elevator doors opened unexpectedly and I jumped. Bella giggled at me and led me past the receptionist, who gave us a friendly smile.

We walked across the lobby to a white door on the other end and opened it. She led me down an echo-y stairwell and into a parking garage. "Thanks for returning my bag." She said suddenly as we tramped past the aisles of cars. "I really appreciate it."

I was so caught off guard that I could only reply with an "Of course." She smiled at me knowingly.

"Alice told me in the kitchen while we were scrounging for ice." Then she seemed to think of something. "How do you know Alice, anyway?" I glanced down at her.

"Long story. I'll tell you when I'm not so tired." I promised. I wasn't quite ready for charming Bella to think I was a stalker yet. Maybe next week when I wasn't so unfamiliar.

"Okay." She seemed disappointed. She stopped at an empty space. "Oh… Crap." She turned to me then apologetically. "I'm sorry, Edward. My car's in the shop right now…" She looked crestfallen and embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it. I usually take the subway anyway." I told her gently. "Go back up to your apartment. I'll be fine."

"Okay." She said slowly. She seemed to be chewing something over. I couldn't be sure what. "I'll see you later?" I smirked at the insecure question.

"Of course." I shot her a smile and walked away.

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_Please review._

_izzy x edward_


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